


Back to You

by astraldefender



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1, Canon Universe, Garrison Sheith, M/M, fluff and drama and a splash of angst but it's all good yall these boys deserve happiness, this is literally just a bunch of times Shiro called Keith baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 05:52:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12205167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraldefender/pseuds/astraldefender
Summary: It's been four hundred, thirty-seven days and sixteen hours since the paladins returned to Earth. Keith counts every single one of them to remember it's real.OrWhere they started, where they went, and every time Shiro called Keith baby between.





	Back to You

**1.**

 

The first time it happens is right before the Kerberos mission. There had been a get together in the mess hall, but Iverson called it an early night with some very heavily implying comments about noise levels and 0600 rise and shine. If you weren't paying close enough attention you probably missed it.

Luckily no one is dumb enough to pass up the chance for an Iverson sanctioned party.

That's how they ended up on the roof, 0200 with bloodstreams singing and the wide expanse of the Milky Way stretched above them. Everything about what they had then was too new and cut far too short. They hadn't even taken the time to really properly discuss where they were going from here, or if they were ever really going somewhere to begin with.

Shiro had Keith straddled between his legs, chest pressed firmly to Keith's back and arms wound tightly around his waist. Keith hasn't been able to stop thinking about how _good_ it feels, having Shiro here with him, mostly because he's not ready for him to be gone.

“Keith.” Shiro's voice is muffled as he pressed lazy kisses across Keith’s shoulder. “I'll be back before you know it, so stop worrying, ok?”

Somehow the knot in Keith's chest tightens. He doesn't know how Shiro always does that, latches onto the cogs spinning in his mind before he's even had the chance to vocalize them. He wants, oh god he _wants_ this. He wants that hope.

“You'd still want this? We've barely even - and it’s going to be _months_ and -”

“ _Of course I do_.” Shiro's hand is warm against Keith's cheek, turning his face until they're eye to eye. His eyes are glassy and Keith can't tell if it's a blush or the alcohol flushing his cheeks but his smile is so tender it almost breaks Keith's heart. “Keith I'm pretty sure I've been in love with you since the second I saw you, it doesn't matter how long it took me to say it. You mean the world to me, baby. No matter which world I'm on.”

 

**2.**

 

The next time it happens Keith has to remind himself that it's not some fever dream, that Shiro is _real_ and right here in front of him. For better or worse - maybe a bit worse than better. Keith catalogs every piece of him that he can see, the bright and angry scar across his nose, the unruly forelock and how the shock of white reads almost translucent in the early morning light. He’s broader now, more solid in physique than he ever was back at the Garrison. There's a permanent strain in his brows, even when he sleeps.

Shiro can't remember much of what happened, and there's a terrible, _nagging_ recess of Keith's mind that can't focus on anything but how _much_ Shiro has forgotten. He's kept his distance from everyone since waking up, never saying more than he absolutely needs to in conversation. Keith watches him for long periods of time but Shiro never looks back, instead he just excuses himself and stays out on the front steps of the shack.

Shiro's looking back at Keith before the front door even opens.

“Never fixed that creaky floorboard, huh?”

There's a shock that runs through Keith's system that feels like ice, because if Shiro remembers the floorboard _then maybe - but why hasn't he?_ Keith doesn't like the silence between them as he sits next to him on the stoop, but he's not even sure where to begin.

“Are you - I don't know if I did something wrong or if you just don't remember.”

Shiro's laugh is strained and dry.

“There's not a hell in existence that I could go through and forget about you.” Keith's breath lodged in his throat. “I thought about you a lot, worried about how you were going to react when the mission read a failure and how no one was going to know how to help you through it. I wanted to come home, back to you and I'm _finally here_ but - I didn't want to come back... _this_.”

The way Shiro avoids looking at his arm breaks Keith's heart.

“Can I?” Keith holds his hand out, his left reaching for Shiro’s right where it catches the glare of the high noon sun. Shiro pulls back first, calculating, _weighing_ before finally conceding, cool metal heavy in Keith's open palm. “This - _all_ of this? I don't care, I won't _ever_ care. I spent a year thinking I’d never see you again, that I'd just spend the rest of my life chasing after images through the desert, but here you are. And yeah, so it's a little different, but it's still _you_. So please, don't push me away.”

The metal of Shiro's right arm might not feel the same, but the way Shiro reaches up and lifts Keith's chin between his forefinger and thumb catches his breath. Different is fine, different is still Shiro smiling at him despite whatever he's been through in the last year and kissing Keith in a way he was so sure he'd never have again.

“I'll try my best, baby. Just remind me when I forget.”

 

**3.**

 

There's an ache in Keith's chest, an ache he's so painfully familiar with he can almost feel himself withdrawing into a shell. Everything is too much right now, _too confusing_ to process because on the one hand he's got Shiro helping him to his feet, using the arm he still won’t even acknowledge exists as a weapon to defend him. On the other, Shiro had just abandoned him, denounced him for being selfish in searching for more information about who he is. Shiro had _left_ him, just walked away and left him battered and bleeding on the floor of the Blade base. It was a test, Keith _knows_ it was meant to tug at any loose thread in his mind that it could manage.

It did.

But how much had he actually learned? Were the frayed ends of his consciousness worth one answer that only left him with a dozen more? Was it worth knowing that maybe something had actually been wrong with him this entire time, that he never got along with his peers because he didn’t _belong_? Why did he have to be Galra, why the enemy?

“You should be resting, Keith. Those trials did a number on you.”

Keith can’t focus on anything but the knife in his hand though. The blade? Shiro sees the look in his eyes before Keith gets the chance to look away, when he flinches away from Shiro’s hand on his shoulder.

“Keith - Keith, don’t shut down on me. Please.”

“I don’t _want_ this, Shiro. This isn’t what I wanted when I went looking for answers. I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore, and I _barely_ had a clue to begin with. Can’t I just have it easy for once?”

Shiro pulls Keith to him, chin resting on top of his head and thumbs tracing circles on his back.

“Nothing worth having comes easy, baby. I know it’s...not what you were expecting, but - remember what you said to me? It’s a little different, but it’s still _you_. It’s always been you, and now you’ve got a real starting point. Now we know where to look next.”

Keith can feel the tugging in his chest, but maybe all of this can help him finally patch the frays.

“I don’t want you to feel obligated to help me, Shiro. This whole thing is a rabbit hole, I don’t know where or even _if_ it ends.”

“Then we can find out. Together.”

 

**4.**

 

“ _Keith_.” He doesn’t bother turning to face him. “Keith what the _hell_ was that?”

“I’m just doing what has to be done, Shiro. I’m _always_ doing what has to be done. You know, _trusting my instincts_?” Keith can see Shiro in the mirror, sees the look on his face twisting and shifting while Keith washes blood off of his hands. “Well my _instincts_ tell me she knows a hell of a lot more than she’s letting on.”

“Even if that _is_ the case, Keith, you can’t - you can’t just abandon all rational thought and... _attack_ someone. Prisoner or not, that’s not how we do things. We can’t act like that.”

“She’s Lotor’s _second in command_ , Shiro. There’s not going to be a damn thing about his plans that she doesn’t know and what? You just want to give her a nice bed and a warm meal and maybe she’ll write us a thank you card on the way out with their battle plans? That’s not how this works, Shiro. We’re at _war_ , and if we can’t manage the upper hand soon we’re going to _lose_.”

“Then talk to me about it first, Keith! We already had a plan, a plan that we’re going to have to rethink now because she’s not going to trust us. She’s not going to think we’re any better.”

“Yeah well let’s not forget I’m not that different in the first place.”

“Keith.” Shiro moves and braces his hands on the edge of the sink. Keith bristles at his weight pins him there, shoulders tensing when Shiro rests his forehead against the base of his neck. “These things...they get so easy to justify when it’s about surviving but - god, Keith, _please_. I don’t want to ever see you live with the guilt that I do. I don’t want to see it break you from the inside out because I’m _scared_ , baby. I’m scared I won’t be able to help piece you back together.”

“I’m not going to break, Shiro. I’m a big boy.”

“Just let me worry. Please. Let me worry because this is me being scared that I won't be strong enough if you do.”

Keith sees it now, how Shiro’s brows are raised in the center and how each intake of breath is sharp and lilted, how his knuckles are white against the cool porcelain of the sink and how the color returns when Keith takes Shiro’s hands in his own.

“I won’t ever go further than I can manage coming back to you.”

 

**5.**

 

They say the universe began with a big flash, a cosmic explosion catalyzed by just the right amount of elements falling just the right way at just the right time. In the end, that’s just how the Galra Empire falls apart, too. It’s a myriad of things, the Blade of Marmora and their insurgents creating dissent from the inside, Lotor ending up not quite the prodigal son they’d thought he was and redirecting allied planets loyalty to himself instead of Zarkon. Their forces were still strong, but with communications back to base interrupted and no allied forces to speak of things fall to pieces quickly.

That is, anyway, until Zarkon decides to lead the charge himself.

It’s almost dizzying how distinctly Galra this new Lion looks while still looking so much like Black, all gunmetal and silver but the distinct violet glow of a quintessence core. Keith doesn’t remember how it happened, whether it was the call of it’s previous Master or Shiro rushing into the last of the battle by his own volition. All he knows is that the Lions have separated and Shiro’s fighting _alone_ and -

“Stand down, Keith.”

“Shiro you can’t seriously expect me to -”

“Stand _down_. Black has the best balance of tactical speed and power of the Lions. It has to be me. It was _always_ going to be me. Keep the last of the reserves off of my back so I can finish this.”

And Keith hates himself, hates that he listened. It's been on a constant torturous loop in his head for days, the feedback over their comms when Shiro and Zarkon collided, how the channel went static and then completely dead. He could still feel the collapse in his chest when he saw Black’s wings extend out because he _knew_ there was a price to pay for it, had felt himself how the raw power of the Black Lion could push you right to your breaking point. Even Red couldn't get to him fast enough, Keith’s mind nearly shutting down and convincing him there was no way no _feasible_ way Shiro had just ejected himself from the cockpit and ripped a hole through the side of Zarkon’s Lion. None of it felt real, Keith didn't _want_ any of it to be real because it was so completely _stupid_ but the mental playback is unrelenting. He can't think about anything but the crumpling of metal and Shiro and _screaming_ -

“That...definitely could have gone better.”

His voice cracks, sounds every bit as unused as it's been for the last four days but it's Shiro and he's ok.

“Sloppy dismount, but you really stuck the landing so I still give it an eight-point-five out of ten.” Shiro's lips are chapped but he smiles anyway.

“Damn, think maybe I could get a do-over?” Keith smacks Shiro's shoulder with the back of his hand. “Hey, hey - ow! Keith, I'm an injured man treat me delicately.”

“You're an idiot.” Keith can't manage to look him in the eye. “You're an idiot, I thought I was going to lose you for good this time.”

“I'm sorry, but Black she - she fought so hard, you know? She wanted to fight him, but the weaker I got the stronger his hold was. I couldn't let him take her again, I needed to end this all for good.”

“And what about you then, huh?” The accusation hung heavily. “What if he took you instead, from everyone? From me? What if he had killed you, Shiro?”

Shiro takes Keith's hand in his own, trailing sandpaper kisses across each of his knuckles.

“He didn't though.”

“He could have, Shiro. He almost did!”

“I knew he wouldn't, baby. I had to make it back to you.”

 

**+1**

 

It's been four hundred, thirty-seven days and sixteen hours since the paladins returned to Earth. Keith counts every single one of them to remember it's real. He catalogs the shack every morning when he wakes up - the bookcase overflowing with aeronautics manuals and mythos texts, the creaky floorboard on his side of the bed, how the sheets are already pulled back into place on the other. The fresh wave of arabica hits Keith before the sunlight does, slowly padding his way across the shack barefoot and rubbing his eyes.

“There is such a thing as sleeping in, you know.”

“But then I wouldn't get to see you all bright eyed and bushy tailed like this. You're clearly a morning person.”

“Oh shut it.” Keith winds his arms around Shiro’s waist and presses his cheek to the bare skin of his back. He hums while he cooks, even if it is horrendously off key.

“Grab some coffee and a plate, breakfast is ready.”

Keith mumbles, pressing a lazy kiss to Shiro’s spine.

“Thanks, baby.”

The sound that escapes Shiro is almost comically sweet.

“Are you - Shiro you're _blushing_.”

“No I’m not!”

“Shiro, you're completely red down to your chest.”

“I just -” Shiro turns and buries his face into Keith's shoulder, mumbling incoherently. “I love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

“Keith!”

Life is simple now, and he only calls it the shack out of habit. Anywhere with Shiro is home.

**Author's Note:**

> Yell at me on [tumblr!!](gutgemacht.tumblr.com)


End file.
